The Great Breakout
by Velvet D'Coolette
Summary: Pure SatAM. The Knothole Freedom Fighters hear word that Robotnik has captured another guerilla group, not so different from themselves, and a batch of civilians. It is up to Sonic and his friends to free them... if they have time. Contains torture.
1. Chapter 1

**DISCLAIMER:** "Sonic the Hedgehog" and most other characters and situations in the following story are copyrighted trademarks of Sega Incorporated, Archie Comics and/or DIC Productions.

Bookshire Draftwood © David Pistone.

**A/N: Chances are you'll find some chapters of this story quite short. This is because there were originally two story arcs and I've deleted one. I hope the overall effect is not too disjointed.**

Which brings me onto my second point: this story contains torture - so if you don't like it, please don't feel you have to continue. This is not a happy story. But for those who like it grim... read on.

CHAPTER 1

In the unwelcoming darkness of Robotropolis, a new project was afoot. A set of captives walked in single file, chained together around the neck. Snively watched them on the bank of monitors and leaned back in satisfaction. The prisoners had been caught _en masse_ in a small village to the north-east of Robotropolis. They would most certainly prove useful.

Robotnik had sent him a directive to capture around 30 Mobians for roboticization tests. For Robotnik had recently had an idea: to create 'super-Robians' - roboticized individuals with extra features not installed by the standard roboticization procedure.

The intercom hummed as Robotnik prepared to speak. "Snively," he said calmly, "I trust the raid went as planned on the Rock Beach settlement?"

"Yes, sir," Snively confirmed. "Twenty-six prisoners await your attention, sir."

"Are the Rock Beach Freedom Fighters among them?"

Snively was proud to be able to answer an affirmative to this question. "Yes, sir. All known members of the group accounted for."

"Very good, Snively," Robotnik replied, a touch of glee in his voice, "Very good indeed! Await my instructions for the prisoners."

Snively couldn't wait to get started...

xXx

Antoine clasped his hands behind his back as the Princess switched from one of Robotnik's computer files to another. Sonic, who was standing beside him and clearly didn't care how slovenly he looked, hunched a little, hands on hips. Bunnie and Rotor loitered behind them.

Sally pointed at the screen. "That's unbelievable!" she exclaimed. "There's so many!"

"Oh, mah stars!" Bunnie exclaimed as the length of the list became apparent, "How many _are_ there?"

Sally counted them. 'They' were registrations; logs noting the entry of more than twenty new prisoners. Eventually she got to the bottom of the list. "Twenty-six."

"Geez," Sonic said to nobody in particular. "So where are they?"

Sally scrolled back to the first and looked for its registration number. "The first is in solitary confinement in level five. A turtle. Female. Seventy-eight years old." Sally shook her head in disgust as she read about the appalling treatment of the elderly woman. Then she went back to the beginning and opened another file. "This one's a piebald stallion; teenager; taken to..." she tracked the horse's file, expecting him also to have been taken to level five. What she found surprised her. "Level seven," she commented, and frowned.

"That's odd," Sonic said, mirroring her thoughts. "What's ol' Buttnik keepin' them in different places for?"

The princess was already searching for a third example. "Male, wolf. He _was_ taken to level five... But he's been moved to the roboticization chamber."

"R-r-r... robotick-ized?" Antoine whimpered in fear. He trembled despite himself. _Terrible, just terrible!_

Sally clicked on. "Surprisingly, no," she replied, confused. "Looks like he was taken to the chambers but hasn't been turned. There isn't a registration number for him."

"So what _did_ happen?" Rotor asked.

"I don't know," Sally said. "I'll check another one."

Sally checked three more files; it seemed that the new prisoners had been taken either to level five - the prison level, level six, a corridor containing an easily-accessible string of cells, or level seven, a laboratory-like holding pen. The final case she found made her sick to her stomach: a penguin had already been experimented on. "Oh, my." Sally covered her mouth and looked away.

"Princess?" Antoine prompted; Sally was plainly distressed.

Sally gathered herself and explained. "This lady... She's had two more arms grafted on. From another prisoner. What's Robotnik _doing_ to these people?"

The whole room fell silent as the news sank in. Then the squirrel shook her head and read on to try and solve the mystery.

"Then... she was roboticized. Robotnik's..." Sally looked at Bunnie, still sickened.

Antoine sensed the rabbit step closer. "He's tryin' to make Robians with extra parts, ain't he?"

Sally could only nod. Robotnik had to be stopped.

TO BE CONTINUED...

**A/N: If you're enjoying this story, you might want to check out my original fiction at FictionPress. Username Palantean Writer.**


	2. Chapter 2

**DISCLAIMER:** "Sonic the Hedgehog" and most other characters and situations in the following story are copyrighted trademarks of Sega Incorporated, Archie Comics and/or DIC Productions.

Bookshire Draftwood © David Pistone.

CHAPTER 2

Her heart beat faster in anticipation; not a good, exciting feeling, but a dark and foreboding one. They'd garnered the information. They'd conferred and planned. Now was the time to get in the middle of the action. And this time it was to witness torture victims. She shuddered.

Bunnie crept along the corridor apprehensively. To the left and right, prison cells lay empty, but she could smell Mobians further down. There were voices too. Distressed voices. Mingled in with the sound came the rhythmic dripping of water on metal. The lights above lit the way balefully, not terribly bright, but light enough.

She was close to the prisoners now. The low buzz of pained Mobians and that curious dripping sounded sharper, more clearly defined. _Time to start checking rooms,_ the rabbit thought. To one side was a room and she looked in through the small, barred window: empty. The opposite one was the same, so she walked a few steps further. Then she checked the next.

It was occupied! A female raccoon lay on a bed, strapped down, face-up. She looked like she'd been crying, for the area around her eyes was soaking wet. She stared at the ceiling with an intensity that unnerved Bunnie. The cyborg kept as quiet as possible; this was a recon, not a rescue mission. Alerting torture victims of her presence only to leave them here would do more harm than good, Bunnie judged.

A metal contraption stood over the raccoon like a hangman's frame. Except, rather than supporting a rope, it was steadily fed by a large water bottle. Bunnie watched as the water ran from the bottle down a long needle, reached the end... and fell. The water hit the raccoon's forehead with a metallic _clunk_. Bunnie was surprised at the hardness of the sound and her first reaction was to think, _You're a Robian? But you've still got fur! Robotnik's made realistic robots?_

Then she looked back up at the frame and saw that she'd been wrong. Pointing obliquely away from the first needle was a second. Water ran along that one too. Another pair of drips came... dangled... fell, and _clunked_. Although the raccoon's body was in the way, Bunnie strongly suspected the other water drip had fallen onto some kind of upturned bucket or something else noisy. That's what she'd heard, she decided.

Bunnie flinched away from the door in disgust; Robotnik was a monster! Before the torture scene angered her too much, Bunnie took a pencil and paper and scrawled, 'Room 22: raccoon, female, mid-40's, water torture'. She moved on.

In the room to the right there was a beaver. Again, female, but this time much younger. The beaver was free to move, but clearly wasn't prepared to take the chance of doing so. She huddled on her bed, crammed tightly into the corner, her broad tail pulled defensively up. All around her scuttled robotic spiders.

Bunnie instinctively assessed the beaver as being on high mental alert and ducked out of view. A few seconds later she heard the female call, "Is there somebody there?" Bunnie held her breath and didn't reply. She felt incredibly cruel doing so, but she didn't want to be seen. "Help! Please!" the beaver called again, but it was a desperate sound, one borne more of the need to escape than conviction of having spotted Bunnie. The rabbit continued to wait, and when it became apparent the beaver had given up hoping for rescue, she ducked under the level of the window and moved on.

Next door to the raccoon Bunnie saw a frog. He crouched side-on to the door, on the balls of his feet. His knees touched the wall, as did his forehead. A robot of some kind stood behind him; it was roughly Mobian-shaped from the waist up, with two mobile arms tipped with mean-looking clamps. From the waist down it was one solid trunk.

The frog grimaced constantly and trembled as he maintained the position. He moved his arms briefly, apparently needing the break, but the robot instantly clamped around his wrists and pulled them back into position. The frog groaned.

Room after room continued in this way. Further down Bunnie found an ageing bat with a heavy mask over his face, which he scrabbled at weakly. In another, a bird who had been entirely plucked, and lay shivering and hissing with pain in the middle of the floor. The scenes went on and on this way and Bunnie, feeling guiltier and guiltier for leaving them, noted the prisoners she had found.

xXx

Sonic stood in the middle of the prison area he'd been asked to check. The room was circular with eight doors, each leading to a cell. Behind him, the corridor led away; ahead of him was a larger room. He decided to check the one to his left first.

The room was entirely dark, although he was able to see in, thanks to an infra-red image on a screen set into the wall. He wasn't sure what he could see in there at first, but as he squinted at the image, it became clearer.

A grey, plush snow leopard stood against the wall. Chaperoned by a robot attached to the floor by a single, broad central post, she appeared unable to move. Her legs trembled slightly and Sonic suspected she'd been there a long time. She looked distressed. _Why wouldn't she be?_ Sonic scolded himself. His jaw set irritably, he moved onto the next cell before the urge to intervene took over.

A pig - around the same age as Sonic - sat clumsily near the wall of the next room. A hood covered his head, strapped around his neck. As Sonic watched the grainy image, the pig spasmed and shook his head. He called something, but the hood and the wall between them muffled it. He seemed to try and swipe at something. Sonic had seen something like this before. _Hallucinating,_ he thought. _Poor guy._

His spirits sinking, Sonic paused to note down these two prisoners. He wondered who was in the large cell.

xXx

That evening Sally sat in silence, grateful to be surrounded by her friends. She, Sonic and Bunnie had been to Robotropolis to check on the positions and conditions of the new prisoners, and the experience had drained them all. Now they had returned and it was time to tell Antoine and Rotor what they had seen.

The walrus and coyote had remained in Knothole as agreed, and as a result looked as if they still had energy. Rotor, as ever, seemed sensitive to their weariness. "So what did you see, guys?" he prompted gently. Before answering, Sally looked to Sonic and Bunnie; they looked as spent as she felt. After a while, Sally gathered herself to speak:

"It was tough." she said, and ran her hand through her hair to try and rub some life into her scalp. "Really tough. Robotnik's doing experiments on people down there." She rummaged in her rucksack and pulled out some notes. "I found eight prisoners. How many did you guys get?"

Sonic had already fished out his own notes and now ran his finger down the list, counting as he went. "Nine," he said, and looked to Bunnie.

"Eight."

Rotor did a quick spot of mental arithmetic. "Twenty-six," he said. "Well, you got all of them. That's a good start! Right?" But however positive Rotor tried to be, Sally found it hard to share his enthusiasm.

Bunnie rubbed her eyes. "Ah saw some nasty stuff down there. Ah think we should tally up what's happened to who as soon as possible."

And, haltingly, she began to recount the state in which she'd found her allotment of prisoners...

TO BE CONTINUED...

**A/N: If you're enjoying this story, you might want to check out my original fiction at FictionPress. Username Palantean Writer.**


	3. Chapter 3

**DISCLAIMER:** "Sonic the Hedgehog" and most other characters and situations in the following story are copyrighted trademarks of Sega Incorporated, Archie Comics and/or DIC Productions.

Bookshire Draftwood © David Pistone.

CHAPTER 3

The plan was set. Sally and the team stood to one side of the half-erected tent as she went through the notes for each of the others. _Sonic..._ she thought as she found the hedgehog's page, _Antoine... Rotor...Bunnie, and... me._ Yep, they were all here. She handed each page to its instructee.

Antoine was quick to protest. "B-but, Princess! My list! Eet eez shorter zan ze others!"

Sally had wondered whether he'd complain about that. He didn't have a shorter list because she didn't think the coyote could do his share of the work. Rather, his list was short so he could get back here, to the tent. "Remember what I said, Antoine," she replied, "Bookshire will need you here as soon as possible. That's why you've got a smaller list."

Antoine continued to frown, but seemed reasonably mollified.

Beside them, the tent was up. Bookshire Draftwood, Knothole's doctor, finished looking through the supplies he'd brought and directed his comrades to move a drop-leaf table into the tent. As they did so, he followed, carrying a big pack of wound dressings.

"Okay," Sally said with a heavy sigh. "Are we all ready?"

The rest of the group nodded at her.

"Then let's do it to it!" they made their hand signs and turned in the direction of Robotropolis.

xXx

Rotor padded along the corridor that led to the solitary confinement area, clutching his instructions tightly. It was his job to get the people out of here. Sally had decided that his gentle nature would make the ordeal easier.

In fact, she'd almost given Antoine the task. But the walrus had finally been the one asked to do it when Sonic described one of the captives. In the communal confinement room, along with a family of colobus monkeys, there was a rhinoceros. Bulky, threatening and intense, Sonic had immediately noted the potential for trouble there. He had suggested Rotor for the job, deeming him strong enough to cope with a frightened, potentially violent rhino.

He decided to deal with the individual cells first. looking into the nearest monitor, he saw a rounded shape outlined by infrared light. A smooth carapace gave way to a wrinkled neck and head, which was held dispairingly in similarly-textured arms. _The turtle!_ It was the old lady!

Rotor set to work right away. Using a small electromagnetic gadget, he disrupted the door's locking mechanism. He opened the door and the turtle looked up in alarm.

She weakly tried to recoil, and Rotor, initially primed to speak, was struck dumb by her condition. The skin hung loose on her arms; her eye sockets were dark and sunken. She looked so tired, the alarm barely registered on her face, and as she tried to rise she stumbled.

"Hey, look, it's okay. I'm here to get you out," he said gently. She whimpered.

Rotor decided to take the initiative and approached her. Before he got too close, he extended a hand for her to take. Shakily, she took it and he pulled her up. She squealed and shrank back, wobbling on her feet and clutching her arm.

"Oh man, I'm sorry," the walrus said, feeling suddenly guilty. "Are you hurt?"

"Arthritis," the turtle croaked.

"Oh... I'm sorry," he repeated and put an arm, instead, across the back of her shoulders. "It's okay, I'll get you somewhere more comfortable. Come with me." She whimpered again and weakly tried to resist him. He paused for her to make a decision on whether to trust him or not, and when she relented, walked her outside.

"There are more people here," he said when they got past the doorway. He took her to the wall so she would have support. "I'll be right back."

The old turtle nodded, then coughed drily. "Do you have any water?" she asked quietly and then coughed again.

"No, I'm sorry. But there's a medical bay just outside Robotropolis, you'll be able to get water there."

He inspected the monitor of the other single room. His notes indicated the presence of a 30-something male wolf. He squinted at the infra-red image, trying to work out whether he could see the shape of a wolf on the bed. The sheets were crumpled; maybe he was in there? No movement came; Rotor decided to enter.

From the moment he opened the door he could see the bed was empty, but, disbelieving, he walked in anyway and inspected the sheets. Nobody there. He looked around, at the entrance, at the space he suddenly felt was too empty. _I'm too late for this guy,_ he realised. Sadly, he walked out again.

He was about to approach the multi room when he heard a scraping sound behind him. He whipped around, expecting a robot attack, but saw instead the turtle, slumped on the floor. He rushed over.

"Are you okay?" he asked, worried. Her head lolled; she only looked half-conscious. She struggled to make eye contact with him, then sobbed.

"I'm so hungry!" she wailed, although the sound came out as a rasp. "So thirsty..." Rotor realised he'd have to move quickly.

"Okay, just bear with me. Please," he begged. "I gotta get these guys out first."

Rotor checked the monitor, and suddenly understood how effective the soundproofing for these cells was. The occupants of this cell, thankfully, were still there. But there was a drama unfolding inside, one he couldn't hear. The easiest prisoners to see were a colobus monkey and four offspring. The children were cowering against the wall, trying to shrink as far away as possible from the final occupant - a very large, very angry, rhinoceros.

He was thrashing about, clearly incensed by something. The colobus childrens' parent (who Rotor couldn't quite tell was mother or father), was trembling but trying to keep the rhino away from the children. He (or she) felt for the wall, ears keenly angled at the rhino, and edged away from the children. The parent shouted something and the rhino whirled to catch up.

Rotor had seen enough. He unlocked the door and strode in. A loud hissing assaulted his ears and he glanced into the top right corner. There was the source: a speaker, churning out an endless whitenoise like the crashing at the foot of a waterfall. _I'm gonna get these guys outta here right now,_ he determined.

xXx

Bunnie looked at the doors. She and Antoine were charged with helping the prisoners on level 7, and this was where it started. She had more work to do here than the coyote. Which was just as well - he was trembling beside her, whimpering slightly with fear.

"Ah, come on, Sugartwan!" she hissed, "We ain't gonna help these guys by shakin'!"

"I am ze most terribly sorry, Madamoiselle," Antoine mumbled, and tried to straighten himself. Then his shakes returned and he could only offer her an apologetic smile. Bunnie sighed.

"Go on," she tutted, "The sooner y'all get started, the sooner y'all get outta here." Antoine took a preparative breath and strode away, with false confidence, down to the opposite end of the hallway.

Bunnie watched him go and hoped this operation would run smoothly. Then she carefully opened the nearest cell door so as not to frighten its inhabitant. As she pushed it out of her line of sight, the strong legs of a kangaroo were revealed. The rabbit entered to approach the prisoner.

On her previous visit, Bunnie had noted the kangaroo as merely drowsy. Then, the marsupial hadn't looked to be in any particular pain. But now Bunnie saw the situation had worsened, and become much clearer. She still couldn't tell what was wrong with the older female, but whatever had been done to her was clearly very painful. The kangaroo was clutching her abdomen, her breathing light and fast, and Bunnie thought she knew the problem. Women in labour breathed like this, didn't they? Was this woman having a premature birth, brought on by stress? Bunnie assumed so.

"Hello ma'am," she said gently. The kangaroo looked in her direction. She was sweating slightly. "Are you..." Bunnie's sentence trailed off; it seemed pretty obvious that the kangaroo was pregnant, for her belly was swollen. _But wait a minute,_ she thought, _Kangaroos don't give birth. Not like this!_ She paused a moment, nonplussed.

"Oh, help me," the kangaroo pleaded. "I can't stand it..."

"What's wrong?" Bunnie asked, approaching her and touching the 'roo's arm. "What is it?"

"I can't... I have to-" her sentence was cut off by a groan of agony.

Bunnie tried a different approach. "Did Robotnik do this to you?"

The 'roo nodded slightly, then tried, through short pants of breath, to speak again. "Don't know what... he did, but... I can't... use... the toilet."

"...Oh." _Oh, gross. Just what's he done?_

The kangaroo sobbed afresh and Bunnie decided to leave her there, where she seemed to be as comfortable as she could get. "Right. Ah'm gonna spring the others out, and then I'll come back and get ya, 'kay?" she asked. The 'roo nodded and Bunnie walked out to free more prisoners.

She briefly looked down the end, where Antoine was busy concentrating on the words of a wildebeeste, who seemed to be talking at high speed. And gesticulating so quickly it shocked her. _What on earth..?_ Before the situation drew her in, she set to work freeing the next inmate.

The next one she came to was a rabbit. The notes reminded her of this one: he had an attachment on his arm, although the nature of it hadn't been clear before. As she gently opened the door, saying, "H'lo?" she wondered what she'd find on closer inspection.

"Oh, hi," came his reply. And then, when he saw her, a more appreciative "Hi!"

Grateful for a light moment in this nightmare, she giggled and said, "Hey there! Ah thought you might need a rescue! Is everything okay?" she continued, indicating the attachment on his arm.

"You don't look so bad yourself," he commented when he saw Bunnie's limbs. Bunnie couldn't help but flinch. "Oh, look, I'm sorry," the buck said hurriedly, "I didn't think it was a sore point."

"Uh, yeah. It's..." she looked at her robotic arm for a moment, suddenly resentful of its presence. "...It's nothin'. D'you know what that is you got there?"

Thankfully her companion seemed easier about his artificial addition than she, and he offered it to her to see. "I don't know what it is," he shrugged. "It's monitoring something though. See?"

He was right. There was a small screen on the top of the attachment, and on it was a list of medical-sounding words with numbers next to them. The numbers seemed always to be changing, but the list went:

Adrenaline  
ACTH  
Aldosterone  
Angiotensin  
ADH  
Calcitonin...

"Hormones?" Bunnie suggested.

"I think so," the buck replied.

Bunnie looked toward the door and pondered for a moment. Then she turned back to him. "Are you okay apart from this?"

"Yeah!" then he seemed to realise he'd sounded over-keen and blushed slightly. "Uh... yeah, I'm okay. Why?"

"Come outside, wait in the corridor. Ah've got more people to help."

xXx

Sonic and Sally looked as if they were ignoring eachother, but in fact were working deftly together, smoothly working as a team to free the Rock Beach Freedom Fighters.

Except there seemed to be little of the fighter left in any of these people. Sally walked into a cell and looked at the inmate. A sea-lion, only around 12, was strapped to a table. Electrodes were attached under the nails on his hands and feet. Each of his digits had small burn marks; his teeth chattered; lines of salt traced a course down the sides of his muzzle, long-since dried. He was trembling.

"Hi," she said, as much to drag him out of his apparent stupor as to open the conversation.

His head turned slowly in her direction. His breath shuddered. "Help me," the young marine animal said simply.

Sally said nothing more, and took hold of his wrist. Inspecting the electrodes for a moment, she began a conversation to distract him from the pain extracting them would cause.

"Are you one of the Rock Beach Freedom Fighters?"

The sea lion sniffed. "No. Where's Hunter?"

Sally took hold of the first electrode and prepared to pull it as he answered. "What species is he?"

"He's a frog-_Ooowww!_" He tried to pull his hand away, but she held firm.

"It's okay, honey. Just keep talking to me. He's down here too. We'll get him out, I promise." She pulled another and instantly regretted it as the sea lion began to cry and wrenched his hand away. _Okay, take it a little slower._ "I'm sorry. Trust me, sweetheart. I'll be more careful."

He haltingly offered his hand again. "Atta boy. Hunter's here too, in one of these rooms. I've got a friend here, and he's freeing people too." She noted that his wrist relaxed, and pulled another electrode. He gasped.

xXx

Sonic heard the echoey sound of Sally's voice mixed with that of an immature boy, who he knew from their list to be a sea lion. He guessed from the calm (if occasionally pained) exchange that things were going okay there. Which was just as well: he had a problem.

The aged bat, an old guy with a wrinkled but kindly face, lay in front of him. His wings hung uselessly from his back, their weight supported by the ground. He was quite clearly dead. The corpse was beginning to smell, but wasn't too bad yet. There was only one thing Sonic could do here: he carefully unclipped the bat's cloak from around his neck, draped it over the body. Then he turned and walked away, and pulled the door closed.

Next door, a lioness sat curiously in the middle of the floor. At first, Sonic thought she was in some kind of meditative posture, but as he got closer he saw the truth. Her fingers were swollen, the fur thin with the degree of inflammation, the skin pink. Her head hung, jaw slack and mouth open. Her feet were in a similar condition to her hands. Sonic wondered for a moment whether she too was dead.

"Ma'am?" he asked tentatively. "Yo. Ma'am, you awake?"

She groaned and tried to lift her head, but seemed too weak. He knelt beside her and carefully raised her head with his hands. She struggled, settled so that her jaw remained open and looked imploringly into his eyes. He saw desolation there, and a quick look into her mouth revealed why: she had no teeth. Her gums were ragged. _They've been pulled. Geez,_ he thought with a shudder.

"I'm gonna help you, okay?" he said.

Her eyes crinkled; unsurprisingly, she didn't try to speak.

"Can you stand?"

"Nngh."

_Was that a yes or a no?_ he wondered. With the situation they were in, he decided to try and help the lioness to her feet.

"Hnngh..! HhhhNNNNNNGGHH!" she protested, and wobbled onto the heels of her feet. He supported her.

"Okay, cool. Can you take a step for me?"

She didn't respond for a few seconds and Sonic began to wonder whether she was simply refusing to move. Then she gingerly moved one leg forward, trying to balance on the heel of her rear leg. With another throaty gurgle of agony, she took a very small step.

_Oh, man. This is not cool,_ Sonic thought.

xXx

Antoine led the way out of Robotropolis via a secondary junkyard that, helpfully, tended to remain unguarded. Remaining at the head of the group, however, was proving impossible - the wildebeeste he'd rescued was doing everything at twice the speed of a normal person. He kept sprinting ahead, then looking back impatiently, waiting for the rest of the group to catch up.

The piebald stallion on the other hand was much slower. Blinded by Robotnik's experiment, he had no choice but to walk slowly, guided by the coyote. But he was strong, and for that Antoine was grateful. "Be careful monsieur," he commented as the ground receded steeply before them, "zere is a sloping 'ere," they slowed down so the horse could negotiate the next few steps with tentative shuffles of his hooves.

Antoine's third charge hadn't been as lucky. The gorilla, barely alive, had told Antoine to go, to leave him to his fate. Antoine had desperately wanted to take him along, but hadn't had the heart to force the ape, whose strength had been fading before his outraged eyes.

For the gorilla's arms had been amputated. This man, Antoine knew, was the operation-partner of the penguin Bunnie would be rescuing. He hoped both hen and doe were all right.

He looked ahead; the wildebeeste, although still twitching with impatience, was starting to tire. As the antelope shifted, Antoine saw the medical bay coming into view behind him.

That was where Antoine's real test lay.

xXx

The shadows stretched over the hillside. Old and tattered leaves hung from the trees, slightly dull with pollution but still alive. The evening was too cold for the insects, who huddled dying or preparing for hibernation, in myriad nooks and crannies in the Great Forest. Just for now, all was peaceful for Antoine.

Well, it was peaceful compared to how it was going to be. Antoine saw the golden glow of evening and heard the rustle of the Forest through the exit of the tent. For now, he was bound to remain inside. Large wads of blotting paper lay crumpled at his feet, soaked with saline fluid. Between them, he and Bookshire had almost succeeded in removing the tank from the horse, and although the resulting visage wasn't pretty, it certainly looked more natural.

Dr. Draftwood moved his scalpel carefully and nicked at the last of the flesh holding the stallion's visor in place. As it came free, the horse gulped with shock, but said little. Now all that remained was for the doctor to dress the raw flesh. Bookshire began to work on this.

Antoine glanced outside and bolted upright: Bunnie was approaching with her shipment of prisoners. "Bookshire?"

"Yes, Antoine?"

"Bunnie." There was no further need to explain; they both knew what to do. Antoine headed out of the tent and up the hill to assess Bunnie's group. The rabbit was almost physically supporting a kangaroo, while a buck rabbit helped a penguin with absurdly bulky arms in a similar fashion. The hen appeared to be in an almost-stupor, and the buck struggled to help her. The marsupial, however, appeared to be in the greater pain. _It appears,_ Antoine thought, _That the kangaroo will need help first._ Nevertheless he approached to ascertain what the problem was.

"Antoine, this is Doris," Bunnie said before Antoine could open his mouth to speak. "Some kind of intestinal block. She needs help _now._"

"Oui oui, Bunnie," the coyote confirmed and dashed back down the hill. By the time he got to the tent he was panting, but managed to splutter, "Bookshire, we 'ave a female kangaroo to be incoming wiz an in-testicle blocking."

Bookshire looked curiously at him and then said, "Intestinal blockage?"

"Zis is what I said," Antoine said between gulps of air.

Bookshire sighed and stood, helping the horse to his feet and guiding him to the resting bay. Antoine sprinted back up the hill to assess the rest of the group and help with the penguin. As he put an arm around her shoulders, he wondered how hectic it would be when Rotor, Sonic and Sally turned up.

TO BE CONTINUED...

**A/N: If you're enjoying this story, you might want to check out my original fiction at FictionPress. Username Palantean Writer.**


	4. Chapter 4

**DISCLAIMER:** "Sonic the Hedgehog" and most other characters and situations in the following story are copyrighted trademarks of Sega Incorporated, Archie Comics and/or DIC Productions.

Bookshire Draftwood © David Pistone.

CHAPTER 4

Rotor kept himself decidedly between colobus family and Crag, the rhino. He was well-aware of the potential for violence - Crag seemed always ready for him to drop his guard, so Rotor made damn sure he didn't. He'd left the turtle in the care of the pig and the snow leopard, although he could see she was struggling to keep up. He wanted to go help, but didn't dare stop watching the rhino. With painful slowness, the group crested the hill.

He felt a rush of relief as the medical camp came within sight. As he watched, a semi-distant Antoine pulled a couple of chairs just outside the tent, returned indoors, and ushered out a horse, and a rabbit with something on its arm. Antoine sat it down and checked it over. _Strange,_ thought Rotor. _Why's Antoine not using the tent?_ It was certainly big enough for a small group to sit inside, even though it was already stocked with Bookshire's surgery table, supplies, and a couple of beds.

As his group came nearer the tent, the smell of faeces wafted into Rotor's nostrils; he instinctively clamped them shut. _Yuck!_ The closer he got, the stronger the smell became. As he arrived at the camp he said to the group, "Okay guys, this is it. You-" he turned to Crag, "-can keep your head down. I got better things to do than be your keeper." He groaned inwardly as he realised he didn't sound terribly impressive saying this, and Crag, judging by his expression, seemed to agree. Rotor turned away. "You," he indicated the pig, "just find somewhere to sit. We're gonna be here a while, just... settle somewhere, and if you see anyone needs help, be ready to help, okay?"

The pig nodded, wrinkling his nose at the fecal smell. Then his gaze snapped to the edge of the forest. "What happened to Dennis?"

"Who?"

The pig pointed. "The wildebeeste."

Rotor looked over. An antelope was tottering around, apparently getting acquainted with the local area at high speed, trembling.

"Uh... yeah. You wanna go help him?"

"Sure," the pig said, and headed off, slightly shaky himself.

Rotor turned back to the rest of his group - the monkey and her children, the snow leopard and the turtle, who was barely able to support her own weight. While Rotor tried to gather his thoughts, the monkey cleared her throat.

"I'll get _us_ sorted out, Rotor," she said, indicating her children. "Thanks for everything." And without any further conversation, she gathered her offspring and looked for somewhere to settle a reasonable distance away from the stinking tent.

"Scallion?" the slow leopard said gently to the turtle. The old lady breathed in rustily and looked up at her. "Rotor and I are going to get you somewhere comfortable, okay?"

Rotor took the opportunity to glance inside the tent. Inside, Dr. Bookshire tended to an anaesthatized kangaroo, fiddling with a metal box that was attached to part of her innards. In front of the table lay a copious quantity of fecal matter, splattered on the edge of the table and the ground. Bunnie was kneeling there, clearing the mess with paper towels.

_Argh... Here goes,_ Rotor thought. He approached, grabbed a handful of paper, and set to work alongside Bunnie. They shared a glance, and he noticed she was holding her breath. He couldn't blame her. Before he could say anything, the snow leopard looked in.

"Is there somewhere she can rest?" she asked pointedly, wrinkling her nose at the sight and scent.

Antoine trotted in and picked up a cup. He pointed over at the far side of the tent. "Pleaze, madamoiselle, take ze turtle to a bed." Then he filled the cup with water and returned to his charges outside.

With a quick glance at the mess Rotor and Bunnie were cleaning up, the cat guided Scallion toward the two beds. Only one was visible; in the closer one lay a polar bear, his rotund belly obscuring any further view.

Bunnie got up. "Rahght: cleaning fluid," she muttered to herself. Rotor was just about to follow her to find a sack to ditch the towels in when the cat called over.

"There aren't any beds here!"

He turned and looked more closely at the beds, at the closer one that supported the polar bear. He'd assumed there was an empty bed behind that large white belly, but as he craned his neck he saw a penguin in the further one. "Oh, _man,_" he muttered. "Antoine?"

Antoine hurried back through, looking hassled. Rotor pointed to the scene, and the coyote flinched. "Ah..." he said worriedly and looked around as if to pluck inspiration or what to do out of thin air. Just as Rotor was losing patience - the weakening turtle had him on edge - Antoine brightened. "Bunnie?"

"Yeah?" she replied, citrus-soaked rag in hand.

"Pleaze to take a pillow and a sheetings outzide and make a bed for the ze polar bear. You can be lifting 'im, oui?"

Bunnie exchanged a surprised glance with Rotor. "You can't make someone sleep outside, Antoine!"

"Bunnie, pleaze do as I say!" Antoine snapped, his tone was clipped enough to surprise everyone else in the room.

Bunnie stared back at Antoine in dumbfounded surprise. Rotor felt much the way Bunnie looked; he'd never heard Antoine snap at a female before. He was about to say something, but the look on Antoine's face was as ernest as he'd ever seen it. The cyborg, handing the cloth to Rotor, set to work.

"Antoine," Dr. Draftwood said calmly, having taken no part in the conversation up until now, "can you please hold this?" he proffered the handles-end of some kind of metal clamp, the other side of which held part of the kangaroo's innards.

Rotor glanced at Antoine; the coyote still looked stressed. "I'll take it, doc," he said and went to reach for the clamp, but Bookshire shook his head.

"Antoine's hands are cleaner than yours."

xXx

Antoine straightened up, the weight secure in his hands. A little time had passed since Rotor's arrival, and, although he and the others felt harried, Antoine was more or less in control of the situation. The coyote felt his gorge rise as he helped Rotor carry the dead penguin out of the tent. Her surrogate arms - those of the gorilla, stitched obscenely on in some nefarious scheme of Robotnik's - dragged along the floor. He felt the rough, stitched edges where the arms joined onto her shoulders against his fingers and had to close his eyes for a second.

The hen had died without anybody noticing. Antoine knew this was terrible, and yet... with the already-stressful turmoil around him, he felt desensitized to hre departure. But he felt something else too, that disgusted and scared him: he was relieved to have a bed free. Dr. Draftwood had completed his operation on Doris - the kangaroo - but had kept her on the operating table. There simply hadn't been anywhere for her to go. Antoine feared Bookshire would need to move her when Sonic and the princess showed up, but at first, there simply wasn't any choice but to keep her there.

But with the penguin's passing, he now had a spot for her.

He focussed again; they were behind the tent. Sitting a short distance away, the pig glanced curiously at them, leaning back on a tree stump to see what was going on. Antoine's mind raced; how was he meant to deal with their first fatality?

Rotor looked expectantly at him, still holding the penguin's scaly ankles. "Put 'er down," Antoine instructed, and as a pair, they did so.

Footsteps fell behind the walrus and he glanced around to see the pig approach. The teenager goggled in horror at the hen. "Tundra?" he gasped. "Wh-?"

Antoine put his hand on the pig's shoulder. "Not to be looking now, my friend." The back part of his mind registered his own dispairing tone of voice and made note to force in some positivity, some resilience, for the rest of this ordeal.

"But she-" the pig began again, but this time, Rotor cut in.

"I know, man, I know," he said to the pig sympathetically.

"She w... I..." tears were leaching their way into the pig's voice and, as he broke down, Rotor led him away from the body.

Which left Antoine with the dilemma: bury her here and chance the disapproval of the survivors, or cover her with a sheet and risk a traumatised patient looking under and seeing it? He put a hand over his eyes as he tried to think, and posed himself the question differently: bury the body and spare them the horror of their disfigured friend or leave her unburied for the Rock Beach fugitives to mourn their own way?

He needed time to think about this and considered escaping back here with a cup of water, just for five minutes. Yes, that's what he'd do.

"_Antoine? Yo, Ant!_"

Sonic had arrived.

"I am on my way," Antoine called wearily, and went to see what challenges he and the princess had brought for him to cope with.

xXx

Sally saw Antoine round the corner of the tent, his expression harrassed; she wondered how he was coping. To her surprise, he rallied and sprang into action.

Sonic stood beside her carrying the lioness in his arms, unwilling to put her down for the pain it might cause her. Antoine approached the hedgehog. "What 'appened 'ere?"

"She's had her claws pulled, and her teeth. I don't think she's been sedated, but she's hurting a lot."

Antoine nodded and pointed toward the tent. "Take 'er..." then he paused as something dawned on him. "Oh." With a small gesture at Sonic to stay where he was, Antoine retreated into the tent. Sally watched him converse with Dr. Draftwood, and heard snippets of their conversation.

"Teezh and claws out... where shall we.."

"Just put the kangaroo to bed... needs to recov..."

"...old lady?"

"Not looking good... tomorrow morning perhaps."

"...any chance..."

"...not make it..."

Sally shared a glance with Sonic for a moment as Antoine looked over at the turtle, then at the lioness. He looked past Bookshire at the medical supplies, then at the turtle again; Sally wondered what he was thinking. With a sickened expression, Antoine took a couple of steps toward the turtle, then paused. He suddenly looked at the operating table, then at the lioness again and his expression melted to one of relief. He approached Sonic.

"Madame," he addressed the lioness, "You would be 'appiest sitting, oui?"

She blinked at him. "Nngh," she nodded gingerly.

"Sonic, put 'er on ze table. Let 'er sit."

"Sure thing."

"Merci."

Sonic walked past Antoine to the table. Sally saw him change grip on the lioness to raise her up. As Bookshire began to help them both, Antoine clapped his hands once, bringing her attention abruptly back to him and the rest of the group.

"Now," he said, addressing Sally. "What else?"

Most of the remainder of Sally's group were traumatised but not physically hurt. They would all need some kind of care, but for now there was only one other person here who needed medical help, and that was the peacock.

"This guy," she said immediately, and reached a hand toward the embarrassed-looking, featherless bird.

"Ah," Antoine mused and approached, taking one of the avian's hands and examining the skin carefully. "And you are just ze featherless, nothing else?"

The peacock ducked his head and glanced away; he nodded.

"Of course," Antoine said calmly. "Pleaze," he gestured toward the tent, "Dr. Draftwood will be finding you somezing to make your skin be 'urting less." He turned back to Sally's group and was just about to say something when the sounds of a scuffle broke out over to one side.

Sally looked over and saw a rhinoceros fighting with a large horse, next to an old, dead tree at the edge of the Great Forest. The horse had bandages around his head and the rhino seemed to be taunting him. The horse, clearly unwilling to fight, was trying to fend off the rhino's blows and talk his way out of trouble; his aggressor seemed, however, keen to take advantage of his handicap.

"Sacre bleu," Antoine muttered. Sally sensed him stiffen by her side, frozen into inaction by the rhino's show of aggression. _Well, I guess it's down to me,_ she thought grimly and walked over.

"Alright, big guy, that's enough!" she barked, storming toward the two Mobians.

"What's your problem, bitch?" the rhino scoffed.

"Can't you see the guy's blind?" Sally retorted.

"Oh, yeah," the rhino grinned. "I can see he's blind. 'Cos you are, ain't ya?" he continued, slapping the horse on the side of his head. "Blind as a fuckin-"

Footsteps thumped behind Sally; she recognised them as Bunnie's. "Did you have something you wanted to say, _Sugah?_" the cyborg chipped in roughly. Sally glanced at her, sensing the rabbit's anger. "'Cos Ah think you can say it much nicer than thayat."

"What's with you, freak?" the rhino replied, looking curiously at Bunnie.

Bunnie's eyes narrowed at the insult. "Lookin' out for people who don't need you wavin' your dick around."

Sally paused. _Wow Bunnie, you really_ are _angry._

The rhino, it seemed, hadn't expected this comeback either, but as Sally looked at him again, he replied with a lecherous grin, "Got any better ideas where I should put my dick, slut?"

"Depends," Bunnie shot back. Clearly aware he was ogling her, she sauntered past Sally and took hold of one of the dead tree branches with her robotic arm. Barely breaking sweat, she tore it from the trunk and tossed it to herself until she found a tiny woodworm hole in its side. "Ah suspect this'll be fahne. Or would you need somethin' smaller?"

The rhino clenched his fists in rage as he registered the insult, but as he snapped his gaze from the branch to Bunnie's face, she squeezed the wood and effortlessly caused it to splinter, a clear signal for him not to bother. Frustrated by his predicament, he snarled and stalked off.

The horse, who'd retreated to a little distance behind Sally, leaned forward again, ears straining at the rhino's retreating form. "What did you do?" he asked incredulously. "What was that splintering sound?"

xXx

Sonic stood outside the tent, Sally safely at his side. He looked around; in the shade, a trembling beaver gently applied some kind of cream to the featherless peacock's back; only the white wattles around the bird's eyes betrayed his species. The legendary tail plumes were long-gone. It was a sickening sight, Sonic thought, and he hoped the poor guy would re-grow them soon.

A little distance away, a young meerkat huddled with a younger sea lion, the marine boy carefully avoiding touching anything with his fingers or toes. Both looked devastated. They clung together like barnacles, holding on as if afraid that if they ever let go, they'd never find eachother again. Sonic guessed they'd be okay by themselves for a while but determined to check on them soon.

"Whatarewegoingtodonow?Wecan''?Wheredoyoulive?Canwestaythere?" the wildebeeste approached Sonic for the third time in half an hour.

"Look, pal," Sonic answered as kindly as he could, "We're doing the best we can. Just let us get the others right first, okay?"

The wildebeeste frowned at him, shifting from one foot to the other. He shivered with exhaustion, but still couldn't seem to relax. Sonic didn't know what had happened to him, but the scars on top of his head offered something like a clue. Bookshire and Antoine hadn't considered him in need of immediate attention, but neither was he in any condition to help the other fugitives. Instead, he'd been encouraged to walk around in the hope he'd settle somewhere and eventually get some rest. Sonic had been hoping the wildebeeste might tire and slow down, but that was beginning to look unlikely.

"Can'twaitformuchlongertoday'sbeenages," he commented and jittered away again.

Sally sighed as Sonic watched the wildebeeste walk away. "I've got no idea how we're going to help him," she half-whispered to Sonic. "Just keep an eye on him. We don't want him getting near Crag."

Sonic had already thought of this, but nodded nonetheless. "Uh-huh." Sonic took the opportunity to look around for the rhino again.

He caught sight of him almost immediately. The rhino, whose temper hadn't cooled much since the rescue according to Rotor, was approaching the colobus family. Without another word, Sonic marched in their direction.

"_Hey, Louche!_" the rhino growled at the mother as she sat comforting the smallest of her children, "You gonna tell me what you meant when you said-"

Sonic was already there. He put a hand on Crag's shoulder. "Okay, pal, you've said enough. Back off!"

The rhino flinched in response to Sonic's touch. "Fuck you!"

"Not in front of the kid," Sonic warned just as Rotor approached. The walrus shared a brief glance with Sonic and they nodded agreement to handle this together.

Crag looked Rotor up and down. "What, are you both fuckin' homos?" he spat and turned away to leave, pausing for a moment to say to the mother, "I'm watchin' you, bitch," before leaving.

Sonic turned back in time to see the woman rub her eyes and sigh.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Mmm," she nodded tiredly. "He's mostly bluster," she managed to smile, although her expression suggested she was more frightened than that. "I'm sure it'll be fine."

Rotor looked toward the tent. "I'm gonna ask Antoine if he wants more help," he said, and walked over.

TO BE CONTINUED...

**A/N: If you're enjoying this story, you might want to check out my original fiction at FictionPress. Username Palantean Writer.**


	5. Chapter 5

**DISCLAIMER:** "Sonic the Hedgehog" and most other characters and situations in the following story are copyrighted trademarks of Sega Incorporated, Archie Comics and/or DIC Productions.

Bookshire Draftwood © David Pistone.

CHAPTER 5

Bunnie eyed Dennis the wildebeeste; he did _not_ look good. He was shaking terribly and his talking, while still fast, had become unintelligible. He drooped; Bunnie realised he was running out of energy and had begun to worry about what would happen when his physical resources fell any lower.

"Listen, Honey," she told him, and he jerked upright for a moment before sinking down again. "Juhst listen, now. Ah think you need some kinda help from the doctor. So Ah'm gonna help you in there, 'kay?"

Dennis babbled in reply, but she couldn't make out what he was saying. She sighed and patted his shoulder.

"Come on, let's getcha inside."

He made to get up but stumbled; she took hold of his arm and supported him as they limped into the tent.

"Doctor?" she called as they entered. "Bookshire? Ah think this guy needs help."

Bookshire indicated that he would be there in a moment, finished changing the bandages on the lioness' feet, and came over. He looked at Dennis. "Ah, yes," he said gently, as though deep in thought. "Come and take a seat."

The wildebeeste struggled to relax enough to sit, although when he did, he crumpled in a heap. Bunnie helped steady him, but just as she did, a commotion began outside.

Bunnie groaned. It was that darned rhinoceros again; she recognised his voice. "Ah'll be raght back," she snapped and jogged outside.

"You gonna say somethin' fatty?" Crag growled, and pushed the pig hard on the shoulder. The teenager stumbled and struggled back, but the rhino was faster and gripped his arm. "I said..." Crag pushed his face into the pig's until his horn squashed the pig's nose and finished the sentence with a dangerously quiet edge, "...do you wanna say somethin' to me?"

"I-I..." the adolescent stammered. Crag snorted, pulled back one fist to deliver a smashing blow to his victim's jaw. The pig squeezed his eyes shut in preparation for the punch.

A cold, metallic hand gripped the rhino's wrist. "Let him go."

Crag grunted in surprise. "_You_ again, bitch?"

"Let. Him. Go."

With an angry snarl, Crag dropped the pig, then turned an angry glare on Bunnie. "Let go of me, whore," he snarled, and attempted to pull his hand away from hers - without success.

Bunnie lifted her other hand and Crag, instinctively, raised his own free arm. With a sleight of hand that left the rhino momentarily baffled, she gripped his other wrist and pulled both behind his back. "_Rotor!_" she called.

Rotor, who was loitering at a distance watching other events, looked over, saw the situation and hurried closer. "You okay there, Bunnie?" he asked.

"Sure, honey," Bunnie replied and put a foot on Crag's back to pin him down harder. "Can you get me some handcuffs or somethin'?"

Rotor blinked at her. "Handcuffs? I'm not sure I've got an..." Then he thought again. "No, actually I have. Can you hold him while I go back to Knothole?"

"Sure thang."

SONIC SATAM

Bunnie remained with Crag the whole time. One of the benefits of her partial roboticization was that it had metalized her skeletal system; neither her robotic hand, nor her organic one, tired of their grip. Nevertheless, when she saw Rotor approach, she couldn't help but feel relieved.

Without a word - mostly because he was breathing so hard - Rotor knelt by Bunnie and fitted the cuffs to the rhino's wrists. Bunnie shunted Crag unceremoniously forward so that she could pull his feet up behind him. "Fucking... _bitch,_" he snarled.

Rotor backhanded the rhino's ear with a painful-sounding _whack_. "Shut up," he snapped, and shifted to allow Bunnie space to maneuver the prisoner's legs while he entwined the footcuffs to the hand ones. Ignoring Crag's thrashing and swearing, he snapped the second pair of cuffs closed on his ankles.

"There!" he said triumphantly and dusted his palms. "Shall we move him, Bunnie?"

"Sure thang, Sugah," she replied, brushing her fringe out of her eyes. "A little way off from the camp, d'ya think? Ah don't think it's a good ahdeah for the little ones to hear his ol' potty mouth."

Rotor nodded. "You're right, I've had enough of this guy, too," he said, and took hold of the rhino's elbows. Bunnie took his knees, and together they maneuvered him out of the main camp.

"_Goddam motherfuckin' dick-pleasers! I'll get you fuckin' asswipes if it's the last thing I..._" Crag continued to rant.

"You sweet-talk all the girls like this?" Bunnie chirruped, and shared a wry grin with Rotor. He couldn't resist a chuckle.

SONIC SATAM

Night had fallen. The atmosphere had relaxed noticeably since Crag had been taken care of, and the Rock Beach refugees were much calmer. Rotor glanced at them all as they stood, or sat, or talked, or cried, or tended wounds. Between them, the Knothole Freedom Fighters - and Dr. Draftwood, of course - had done a good job. But there was only one person Rotor really wanted to see right now; someone he still felt tense about. He decided to go see her.

The inside of the tent was quiet: Bookshire had gone outside to eat. Now, the only sounds were that of the polar bear's slow breathing and the soft rustlings of the kangaroo's sleepy movements. Scallion made not a sound.

Rotor approached, walking around Doris' bed to get to Scallion's. The old turtle was awake; she looked peaceful and her deep-set eyes twinkled as she contemplated the softly-flapping tent roof. As he came within easy view, she turned her head slightly and smiled in recognition, her already-heavy wrinkles growing deeper still.

He sat on the edge of her bed and said nothing.

"Hello, Rotor," she said in a voice rough, yet soft.

"Hi," he replied gently. "I wanted to see how you were."

A throaty in-breath preceded her reply. "I'm comfortable here. I'm so very grateful to you for rescuing me. Thank you, young man." She glanced down and took his hand in her own.

"Are you gonna be alright?" he asked.

Scallion smiled, an ancient, mysterious smile. "I'm sure I'll be just fine. Don't worry, Rotor, everything will work out as it should. That's the way of the world."

Rotor nodded. "I'll make sure someone helps you get back to Rock Beach." Scallion's smile faded then, and Rotor felt troubled by this. So he added: "...a-and if nobody will, you can count on me!"

Something passed across the ancient turtle's face then. Was it pity? Rotor couldn't be sure, but he felt the need to say something else. Unsure of what else to say, he said, "Is that pillow soft enough? I'll go get you another one."

There was that look again; Scallion patted his hand. "Thank you, my dear," she said, a little sadly.

With a feeling of dread he couldn't quite identify, Rotor went to find another pillow, telling himself the reason he was rushing was that she must be uncomfortable.

SONIC SATAM

Antoine watched Rotor and the turtle out of the corner of his eye. The coyote was exhausted, almost too exhausted even to be proud of the work he'd done, although some part of his mind told him he should be.

What worried him, however, was the turtle. He'd made sure she was as comfortable as she could be; he'd been keen to do all he could to soothe her pain. But she seemed slow and dreamy, becoming less present with each passing hour, and a conversation with Dr. Draftwood had made him feel aggrieved: it was unlikely the turtle would survive the night.

And as he watched Rotor chat with her, he wondered how his comrade would cope with the impending death.

"Antoine?" a voice pulled him out of his reverie. It was the Princess; Antoine dragged his attention away from Rotor and the turtle to her.

"Hello, my princess," he said wearily. "'Ow are you?"

"I came to find out how _you_ are," she replied.

Antoine found himself unexpectedly touched by her concern. "I... I am tired. And I..." he squeezed his eyes shut; there were so many thoughts going through his head, he couldn't tell them all apart any more. "I am worried about 'ow we will release ze rhinoceros."

Sally looked puzzled. "I don't think you need to worry about him, Antoine. Sonic can deal with him."

It was at about that moment that the pressure of the last few hours, the guilt of the failures and the relief of the successes, plus the concern about the refugees' futures after tonight, all seemed to land afresh on his shoulders and he had to turn away. He pinched the bridge of his muzzle as his eyes suddenly felt hot.

"Antoine?" the princess asked quietly. He felt her hand on the back of his shoulder and she coaxed him into the corner of the tent. But Antoine felt paralyzed by this intensification of feeling, and Sally embraced him.

"I am zorry, I am zorry, Princess," he gulped and turned away again to wipe at the tears. "Eet 'as been... eet 'as been so 'ard. People 'ave died 'ere. Ah, _zut alors,_" he muttered to himself, frustrated at his lack of ability to push away the tears.

Sally paused. "Antoine, it wasn't your responsibility to save everyone. Some of the people just couldn't be saved. It wasn't your fault."

"But I should 'ave, princess, I _should 'ave_!" he insisted.

He felt angry at himself for snapping at her and fully expected a comeback, but for a few seconds she said nothing and again touched his shoulder, silently supporting him.

"So you think the penguin would have wanted to live?" she eventually asked quietly.

_Ah, the penguin. That poor woman..._ Antoine found himself nodding agreement with her point, and part of the guilt evaporated. But there was still some left and, feeling a little happier, he wanted to bring more into the open too. He turned back to the tent interior.

"Look, princess," he said quietly into her ear, so that nobody else would hear. "Rotor 'as put so many wishings into ze survival of Scallion. I want 'er to live, but..." he had to take a gulp of air before he told the terrible truth. "...but she is going to die. Very soon." As he spoke, he saw Rotor watch the turtle's face intently. He held the turtle's hand. Scallion had closed her eyes; Antoine wondered whether she was still breathing.

"Oh, _Antoine,_" Sally said, exasperated but sad, "Don't you see?" he looked at her, feeling lost. "You've given an old lady a gift she never thought she'd have. You've allowed her to die in a warm, soft bed, away from Robotnik and everything he wanted to do to her. Look at her, Antoine: she's got a friend. She's going to die surrounded by love."

And, despite the nagging feeling he should somehow make Scallion survive, Antoine could only agree. Wiping away fresh tears, he was half aware of Rotor getting up and walking wretchedly out of the tent.

THE END.

**A/N: It's possible you, the reader, found the ending to this story a little abrupt. If so, I apologise, for the original story included another arc which I deleted. I hope the remainder entertained you.**

If you enjoyed this story, you might want to check out my original fiction at FictionPress. Username Palantean Writer.


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